The Birthmark
by vamphony
Summary: Perfection is a façade of a higher power that is untouchable. It isn't meant to be withheld, tamed or even taught. You may find the consequences a cruel laughter of the thing you could never achieve... and the thing you may never touch again.


**AN:** I wasn't going to write this but when I was in my 4th period (English) our class read this little sheet called "The Birthmark" by Nathaniel Hawthorne and I completely fell in love with it. I _had_ to write it. This little one shot is based on it. Yeah, I named it the exact same thing but oh well. I liked the name.

And, I figured everyone would love a short little story like this. It's kind of different for me because imperfections and being perfect is a huge debate and I don't know the right words to describe it. I just never touched on it because I didn't know how to word it the way I wanted but I decided to give it a try so I hope you all like it! : )

A huge thanks to my beta: **Salvatoreboys4ever**

But I just want to say this to everyone, remember this word. _Kalon._ It means "Beauty than is more than skin deep" just please remember that in the future because it's true. Everything isn't about looks despite what the media and other people say. I don't really pay much attention to looks. I much more care about how they treat me and how they are as a person. I just wish others felt the same.

Tell me your thoughts when you're done. I can't wait to hear them! Enjoy.

* * *

The rich aroma of hot food that came from the kitchen, made Damon's taste buds tingle. He licked his lips and took a smell, pointing his nose in the air. He smiled at the familiar smell of lasagna that attacked his senses and sat his black brief case down by the door, knowing he would return to grab it and take it to his study later. His wife and her skilled cooking were more important at the moment. His stomach growled moments later and he silently cursed, hoping she didn't hear the sound. The thought of scaring her was just too amusing to pass up. He kicked off his shoes next to the brief case and didn't waste another second before quietly walking towards the kitchen, not bothering to change out of his black suit form work in the previous hours.

He recalled the earlier warmth he had awoken to and turned over to see his sleeping wife, her eyes closed, completely oblivious to the outside world, her small arms wrapped around his middle, cuddling as close as she could to him. He felt saddened he couldn't do more but then to get ready silently as she continued laying in their warm bed when all he wanted to do was curl back up next to her. He only gave her a soft kiss on the cheek, lingering longer than he had expected before leaving their shared home.

But, now he could make it up to her... and all those other mornings that she begged him not to leave when he didn't have a choice.

He silently laid his heels on the floorboards and balanced his weight carefully not to make the wood creaks from under his feet. She knew he liked to play games with her, especially when he came so any movement out the ordinary or sound would give him away. She was too used to it. The only she didn't know was when he got home. That was the past that always tricked her. She couldn't prepare herself for what she already knew was coming. And, that was the best part... at least to him.

He came closer and finally entered the kitchen, only a few feet behind her and prayed she didn't turn around at that moment or he would be given away. She stood; her back to him, standing in front of boiling noodles. The steam raised in the air and blow away by the air conditioner flowing throughout the house. He playfully rolled his eyes at her back. She just _couldn't_ help but make spaghetti with lasagna. He never understood why she liked to do that or even how she ate both of them at the same time. The lasagna itself was enough to keep him full for hours.

He crept closer, right behind her and opened his mouth, ready to scare her when her voice suddenly filled the air.

"Don't even think about it." She said, stirring the noodles with a wooden spoon. His jaw fell slack and his eyebrows raised in question at her words. There was no way she couldn't have heard him. He didn't make one sound.

He rolled his eyes in frustration at himself for getting caught and pressed his chest into her back. His arms curled around her tight frame and came to rest in front of her stomach, his fingers intertwining. He made sure not to push his body into hers and slightly pressed into her stomach to keep her body and his hands away from the burning fire and hot pot inches away. He would _die_ if something was to happen to her.

He laid his head in the crook of her neck and smiled into her skin. "How did you know it was me? Or, that I was even there?" His voice became muffled when he spoke and his dark lashes tickled the skin of her neck. He knew she could hear and understand what he was saying. He just didn't know how she could have known he was behind her at that _exact_ moment. He was a pro at scaring her. Of course, he didn't do it always because it genuinely made her fearful of everything and her surroundings but this was one of the times he just couldn't help himself. But, if she asked him to stop, he would without a complaint. Her happiness and love meant more than any sick pleasure he took in scaring her.

He made a mental note to try and stop because she was fearful of the dark. She didn't need him popping out at her one night and giving her a heart attack. God forbid that ever happened. He couldn't lose his beautiful wife. He just couldn't.

"Because of that." She replied, pointing to something on the right of her, her tone happy. He knew it was because she had finally caught him like she had been dreaming of for months. He slightly tilted his head at whatever she had pointed at and found the culprit. A mirror. He squinted his eyes at the object and glared at it for giving him away. The way it was tilted, it gave her a complete view of the kitchen doorway. She had known all along. She was prepared.

"Damn. I'll have to try harder next time." He teased, smirking at her even though she could see from the corner of her eye. She playfully rolled her eyes at the comment but didn't say a word to plead with him to stop. He always wondered if she secretly liked it. Maybe it got her heart rate pumping and she liked it. He didn't know.

He took another whiff of the cooking food below them and closed his eyes, savoring the moment. Her tied up chocolate brown hair was pinned up into a pony tail, small, natural curls towards the end, lightly touching his skin, tickling it ever so softly. He kissed her shoulder and pouted out his lips, swaying his hips. She chuckled and let his hands move her lower body without compliant as his hands warmed through the material of her clothes as if his touch was right on her skin. And, she knew it had nothing to do with the food in front of them. She smiled and turned off the burner for the noodles. She laughed when Damon's grip only tightened on her waist, making her barely able to move.

"Damon," She chastised playfully, dragging out the 'n' in his name. She lightly smacked her hands on his tight grip, signaling for him to let go. "Let me go." She begged, her smile widening when she felt him smirk into her neck, never releasing her from his grip. She raised an eyebrow moments later and slightly turned her head, kissing his raven hair.

"If you don't let me go, you can't eat because the lasagna will be burned." She teased, hoping he would take the hint and let her go before she burned their food. She only felt his smirk widen further and her look of triumph vanished from her face. He raised up from her neck and placed his mouth next to her ear, his pink pouty lips grazing over it. She silently gasped and her eyes snapped shut, her finger digging into his arm, eagerly awaiting for whatever words that would come next.

"Well then..." He started, smirking. "I guess it will just have to burn!" He yelled, picking her up as she screamed playfully. He dragged her from the kitchen as she begged him to take her back inside the other room. He ignored her pleas and continued walking, picking her up bridal style so it would be easier to move her. He walked into the living room as she continued to demand that he put her down. He smirked at her anger and dropped her right on the plush couch, making sure he didn't hurt her when she fell. She gasped when her head and body softly hit the cushions of their couch and lifted her head, squinting her eyes at him.

The movement caused his eyes to trace over her heart shaped face and onto the one thing he was positively captivated by. _Her birthmark._

On her left olive tanned cheek, deep within her skin. The mark was usually a deep red but it depended on her emotions. When Elena blushed, it become blended with her skin as if it was never there to begin with as it matched with her brightening color. But, when she turned pale, sad or upset, it almost _glowed._ Like a red satin upon white snow. The birthmark came and went with the emotions in her heart.

The mark was in the shape of a _very_ small human hand. It couldn't be any bigger than a toddler's. Her parents would always coo that the hand of an angel had blessed her skin when she was born and he had to agree. He had never seen something so beautifully imperfect. No one else deserved such a blessing upon like her. God had especially made this for her. She was special... and _so beautiful._

But, to be expected, others had different opinions. Some very jealous women said the red hand lessened her beauty when it only increased _because_ of the beautiful mark. They didn't know what they were talking about. Male observers hated the mark simply because it was so visible on her face. They always wished it away, causing her to cower away from the attention and even sometimes even hide the beautiful blessing that was placed upon her.

But, after their marriage, Damon only found himself falling more for the tiny imprint and her. He didn't understand why so many people shamed her for such a thing she couldn't control. And, why they couldn't take her for who she was. It wasn't like she could remove it. He didn't want her too. Of course, though, if she wanted this thing removed, he would only state his opinion on it and hold her hand so she wouldn't be alone like she often felt.

Being too caught up in his thoughts, he continued to stare at the now dimed hand print. The action caused him to finally look up and noticed she had turned away, her head facing the TV and no longer him. He could tell she was once again sad that he was staring, obviously thinking he was wishing it away as well, just like she and everyone else had been.

It was touchy subject to her. Every time he went to say something about it while looking form her eyes to the red mark, she would put a hand up, stopping him before he could start talking and walk out of the room. It was one of few things he still didn't know about her. He knew most but this little birthmark, was a _no no_ with her. He could talk about it, she hated when he looked at it because shamed her for it. Once when he was fed up with being silent over it, he finally confronted her and to say it didn't go well would be an _understatement._

 _"That's it." He yelled, jumping out of their bed. Elena sat up, pressing her back against the wooden headboard, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion. He stood on his side of the bed, his jaw clenched. He took a long, deep breath to not explode on her before speaking once again. "I'm sick of walking on eggshells with you about this. I want to talk about it, Elena. I don't know why you don't."_

 _If possible, she looked even more confused. He mentally rolled his eyes. She knew EXACTLY what he was talking about. She just wanted to act clueless, hoping he wouldn't press the issue. But, he was tired of it. He would find out about this mark and why she hated it so much. She would never speak a word about it. The most he had ever gotten about it was from her parents and even they wouldn't speak much on it, knowing she hated the mark, even though it was beautiful._

 _"Elena, don't play stupid with me. You know what I'm talking about." Damon replied, raising his hand to point at the now disappearing imprint. "That."_

 _The moment the words fell from his lips, she turned away again. Making sure it was hidden even more from his view. She could feel the blood in her cheek... almost lessening form the rest of her face. It felt cold. She knew it was gone for the time being. If only it stayed gone like she had begged so many times, before. She felt tears prickling at her eyes and she closed her eyelids to keep them from falling. She still heard Damon breathing heavily, a sign of his anger and frustration. She just wished it wasn't aimed at her for the moment._

 _Once she felt the tears turn into the water of her eyes, she finally gathered the courage to turn back to her husband. "Damon, you know I don't like talking about it. So, please don't." She snipped, her voice tight with emotions._

 _He just rolled his eyes at her obvious avoidant and denial of the situation. He walked back over to the bed and laid his knees on the mattress, reaching his arms over to her face... to touch the birthmark. Her eyes widened in fear and she looked to his hand and his face before she squealed and jumped from the bed._

 _"Don't touch it!" She screamed, tears flowing down her light pale skin, no sign of it stopping anytime soon. His heart shattered when he saw the tears he caused and regretted every word he previously said. He just needed her to open up about this one little thing. He wanted to know more about it._

 _"Elena-" He started before she quickly cut him off, raising her hand for what it felt like the millionth time in their relationship before he could go on about the mark._

 _"Don't Damon. You know I hate talking about it so why can't you respect that and stop talking about it. I'm sensitive about it..." She paused, taking a deep breath when her voice cracked half way through her sentence. She looked back at him, her tears momentarily stopping. "If you don't stop talking about it, I'm going to leave." She threatened, pointing to the closed door._

 _His breath hitched in his throat at her threat and a tiny voice inside his head called to let it go so she would stay. He couldn't let her walk out over this. She didn't want to talk. He needed to let it go._

 _He nodded after a moment, swallowing his anger and frustration and instead thinking of how heartbroken he would be if she left him. "Okay, I'll stop talking about it. I'm sorry, baby. Please come back to bed."_

He gulped, the room eerily quiet between them and he knew that if he didn't do something that it would once again explode like that night or maybe even worse. He turned and walked to the chair besides the couch and sat, leaning his elbows on his legs, licking his lips nervously. Her head was still turned on the left side but the mark was long gone. He couldn't look at it even if he wanted too. If she didn't want him to mention it and pretend it didn't exist, that's what he would do to keep her happy. It seemed like everything would go good until he caught the color of it and continued staring for minutes at a time or if he even started to discuss it.

"Elena," He called, drawing her attention back over to him. She looked at him through fearful eyes, terrified he would bring up the _forbidden_ mark on her face. "Maybe... maybe we look to see if you could get it removed."

He internally cursed himself out the moment the words spilled from his lips. How could he say such a thing? _Why_ would he suggest something like that? Has he officially lost it?

He told himself he wasn't doing this to make _himself_ feel better but for _her._ She hated it and everything about it. She turned away when someone looked at it, she yelled when someone wanted to discuss it and she would hide it with her hood when she went outside, even though everyone had already seen it. She was all around miserable because of it and he couldn't stand to hear her cries of pain in the middle of the night about it any longer. If she hated it and wanted it gone, he would grant that wish for her in a heartbeat.

She raised her eyebrows and her mouth opened, shocked at the comment. "Really?" She asked, her tone bright. He could see the excitement and happiness brewing in her hazel eyes and only increased his guilt for putting the thought in her head. The imprint started to brighten and turned dark red from the smile appearing on her face and for once, she didn't try to hide it. Her eyes became glossy and she lightly covered her mouth with her hand. "You'd do that for me?"

He licked his lips, his mouth going completely dry. He didn't want to say he would make this happen because he didn't want it too. But, it was clear how much this thing negatively affected her. He just wanted her happy and she clearly wasn't.

Against his own will, he began nodding. "Yes, I'll do anything for you."

The next moment, he was thrown back against the chair, Elena over top of him, her arm s around his neck, her head pressed against the side of his. She kept mumbling "Thank you" over and over again. He just faked a smile even though she couldn't see him. The darkening guilt only grew and a terrible feeling sat in his stomach about all this. He couldn't help but think that something was going to go _awfully_ wrong.

* * *

"Are you okay?" Damon asked, holding Elena's hand as she got more comfortable on her hospital bed in her room. Needles were stuck in her arm and she couldn't move much. The whole thing made him nauseous. She nodded, smiling brightly, showing off her pearly whites for the first time in weeks. She hadn't even smiled this much on their wedding day and the cold realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He clutched her hand harder, making her smile drop and she looked at him confused.

"You know you don't have to do this, right? I don't want you too."

Elena sighed and tucked apiece of hair behind her ear. "Damon, I _need_ this. I can't stand when people stare at me and call me ugly because of this stupid mark on my face. I hate it. I can't live with it anymore. Please, I want to do this..." She pleaded, her eyes saddening, knowing he would no longer protest when he knew that he really not only wanted this but needed it. Damon went silent and looked to the floor, ashamed that all of this was happening because of him and disappointed that she wanted to get rid of such a beautiful imprint. A part of him keep taunting that if she went through with this, he would never look at her the same.

Moments later, the doctor walked in, smiling happily. A plastic bag with in her hand and Damon shot his gaze up to it, knowing exactly what it was. The chemical they wanted to put inside of Elena to rid her of the birthmark. He stole a quick look over at his wife and noticed her smile widening the more she looked at the plastic bag.

The doctor, Meredith Fell, spoke. "So, I'm going to hook this little plastic bag to the machine and it should be ready to go. I'll stay in here just in case something goes wrong."

The words made Damon's knee bounce harder, his boots tapping the floorboard with every flick of his knee. She did _nothing_ to calm him. In fact, she only made him more cautious about this whole situation. The doctor said it was safe, at least it should be, but you could never be too sure. He just nodded along with Elena, thankful he was able to stay in the room with her.

Meredith hooked up the chemical bag and minutes later, it started. He watched as the chemical left the beg and went into her arm. He stood and walked closer to the bed and looked over at her left cheek. It was... _disappearing._ The birthmark was getting dimmer by the minute. It actually worked. His eyes widened and slightly smiled that she was okay and she could be happy now.

A sudden beep broke him from his trance and his eyes shot over to the machine that measure her heartrate and gasped when it started beeping repeatedly, her lines of the machine starting to grow shorter by the second. She was dying. She moaned in pain and closed her eyes before Damon yelled at Meredith to do something and when she wasn't quick enough, he pulled the needles and tubes from her arms, the chemicals immediately stopping from leaving the tube. But, Elena's heartrate continued to drop even without the chemicals begin pumped into her blood.

He was pushed back moments later by nurses and ignoring his desperate pleas to save his wife, they made him leave the room and slammed the door in his face to get to Elena.

He sat down in the chair outside of the room and clutched his head in his hands. He could still hear the repeated beep of the machine that measure her heartrate as murmurs but he couldn't make out what they had said. His blood started to boil not from anger but from fear. His wife might die. Elena might die because of him. Because of his stupid suggestion. He should have just kept it to himself and none of this would have happened.

He slightly turned his head to listen for the beep and realized he couldn't hear it anymore. _Was she dead?_ He rushed back into the hospital room and walked over to the bed, ignoring the pleas from the nurses to leave. He looked over at the monitor and realized that she was okay. It was just saying she was stabilized. Thank God. He heard Meredith tell the nurses to leave and once they left the room, she came over to him.

"I'm so sorry about this, Damon. This shouldn't have happened but the moment the birthmark started to disappear, her heartrate dropped. I don't understand. The chemicals weren't affecting her in any way." She said, baffled about the situation.

"I don't understand it either. All I know is that this shouldn't have happened to begin with. I should have never said anything about this and she wouldn't even be here right now."

"Don't blame yourself." Meredith replied, shaking her head. "This wasn't your fault. Maybe in the future, she would have made this decision behind your back and actually died. This could have happened at any time, Damon. This was in no way your fault." She licked her lips as Damon silently nodded. "Since everything is stable, I have to leave. I have many other patients waiting to see me and there's only a certain amount of doctors. Press the big red panic button if something happens and I'll be here immediately. She should wake up in a few minutes."

Damon nodded as she turned and left the room. He pulled a chair up to the bed and sat down, placing his head on her stomach and only then, the reality of what almost happened hit him. He bit down on his lip to keep from crying out in the silent room and didn't attempt to wipe away the tears that flowed down his cheeks and onto her thin hospital bed sheet.

His wife almost _died._ Right in front of him. Her _birthmark_ almost cost her life.

Meredith's words suddenly came back to him after a moment. _"This shouldn't have happened but the moment the birthmark started to disappear, her heartrate dropped. I don't understand. The chemicals weren't affecting her in any way."_

He knew it. That birthmark wasn't just some mark on her face she was born with it. It was a blessing. A direct tie to her life. You take that mark away, you take her life as well. He knew it was more than a simple birthmark. Not with the way it vanishes and reappears with her emotions.

And, the notion only horrified him further.

He unintentionally dug his face further into her stomach, his hands gripping the thin sheet at her knees to keep him grounded, fearful this was all a dream and when he would wake up, he would still be outside of the hospital room, crying his heart out because she _actually_ died.

But, when he felt a small hand comb through his raven hair, his eyes shot open. He turned to see Elena staring at him through sad eyes. She must have noticed the tear stains on his cheeks. Her head fell back onto the hard bed, ashamed to even touch him any longer. Her selfishness almost made him lose her. He opened his mouth, still in disbelief she was awake and _alive._ He took a moment before speaking.

"Hey,"

He silently cursed himself for sounding so childish and scared, like it was the first time he had ever talked to her. He couldn't come up with anything better than a simple 'hey' after his wife died? His body still visibly shook from the hours before and he reached for the hand that soft curled into his dark locks, intertwining their fingers.

She smiled; trying to shake the tension and fear from her body and to comfort his own. "Hey." She teased, blushing. His eyes immediately left hers and shot down to the now glowing hand imprint. Any trace of fear or happiness instantly died faster than the wisps of a candle after it's been blown out. She noticed where his eyes went and she stopped smiling, biting down on her bottom lip, teary eyed.

"I'm so sorry." He suddenly stated, his eyes turning light blue from guilt and pain.

She always thought just in the way when her mark would glow and darken, so would his eyes. They often turned dark blue like the ocean and sometimes even black when angry or frustrated. But, pain, happiness or guilt, they always brightened, especially in the sunlight.

"For what?" She asked, baffled. His grip on her hand tightened almost as if he was scared she would disappear if he let go.

"For all of this." He replied, trying to keep his tears at bay. "None of this would have happened if I hadn't suggested it. You wouldn't have almost _died_ right in front of my arms if I didn't say a word about removing the birthmark. This is all my fault." His voice broke at his last words and he tilted his head down in shame, staring at the white hospital sheet to avoid of what he thought would be a hateful gaze.

"No, Damon, this isn't your fault." She replied, her free hand curling up on the side of his face, stroking his cheek lightly before placing her index finger under his chin, making him look back to her. "This is my fault." She cried, softly biting down on her pink lips as hot tears ran down her cheeks. "If I didn't hate this birthmark so much then we wouldn't be here right now. This isn't your fault but _my_ fault..." She took a deep breath to even out the short, rapids ones that came from her chest while she was talking. He opened his mouth to speak and no doubt argue to take the blame but she held her hand up, silencing him. "When I closed my eyes after I heard the beeping of the machine next to me, all I could hear was your voice demanding that Meredith help and do something. And, all I could think was that I was terrified, Damon. Everything in my body stopped moving, I felt it one by one. I tried to move my arms and I physically _couldn't._ When I tried to tell you how much i loved you because I was scared I was going to die, I couldn't speak. I couldn't move my lips or open my mouth. I could hear the words inside my head but I couldn't move or speak them. Everything was so dark and I only got more scared by the second. I regretted coming and I regretted hating my birthmark. It wasn't the one that caused problems, it was _me._ I was ashamed of it and hated it because no one else liked it besides my parents until you came along... and I hated talking about it or when someone looked at it because of all those times someone told me it was ugly and that it made me ugly. So, whenever I saw you looking at it, it only made me more self-conscious even though now I realize that you didn't hate it. You were just curious but after years, I only wanted to be rid of it. If you had told me that it was beautiful and that it made me more beautiful... I wouldn't have believed you."

She sighed and licked her lips, continuing before she could lose her train of thought. "But, when I couldn't move and all I could hear were your screams and feel my heartrate slowing... everything stopped. I couldn't hear you or her or anything anymore and a white light appeared, I was sure that I had died... but, I didn't. I opened my eyes and saw you laying on me and I had never felt so relieved in my entire life. I don't remember anything that happened after the white light to when I woke up... maybe nothing even happened but I'm just happy that I didn't die because I didn't want that. I just wanted the birthmark removed because I began to hate it with every side comment about it. Walking around school I felt like I had a red target on the side of my face and I couldn't go anywhere without someone staring at me as if I were a freak, adults too. I just didn't know how to love it anymore so I began to hate it..." She sighed, knowing she was getting off track but knew it was something he deserved to know after so many months of being kept in the dark. "That's why I was so sensitive about when you looked at it or tried to say something about it." She blew out a steady breath, thankful her tears stopped so she could resume talking like a normal person.

"I don't know how I am alive but I'm just happy that I am..." She licked her lips and watched his eyebrows draw together at something before he took a breath, turning his gaze back to her.

"Elena... when the birthmark started to disappear, _that's_ when your heartrate started to slow. I think it has a tie to your life. It's a part of you. Not just something you were born with... I don't know how your alive either but you have _no_ idea how fucking ecstatic that you are. I would lose my mind without you... I would _die_ without you." He grabbed her other hand, making sure he had her full attention before speaking again. "I've never had a problem with your birthmark. I wouldn't have _married_ you if I did. I just liked to look at it because I thought it was _beautiful_ not ugly. It heightened your beauty, not lessened it. I only suggested to come here to make you happy because I knew how much you hated looking yourself in the mirror because of the imprint. I never wanted it to be gone and I should have listened to myself when I thought something would go terribly wrong about this whole thing... I know you're not find of the birthmark because of what people have said but there's always time and room to _grow_ to love it, Elena."

She nodded; the curves of her lips turning upwards into a small smile. "You're right. I should have loved it from the beginning. I shouldn't have cared what other people think... I _know_ I could grow to love it, especially with you by my side."

Elena's eyes filled with happy tears and soon her vision became blurred. She nodded and looked down to the sheet as she felt her small hand in his move and he stood up, kissing her face. He started at her forehead, to her eyelids and right cheek before kissing the left one as the imprint started turning dark red, almost blending with her bright skin. The small actions sent warmth radiating through her body that made her cry harder before he rubbed the tears with the pads of his thumbs. He softly pushed her bac against the pillow and pressed their foreheads together as they both closed their eyes.

The small handprint, unbeknownst to them, started to fade quickly into her skin, disappearing until it could no longer be seen. It's exitance on her left cheek dying away as the second heartbeat inside of her took its first beat.

* * *

 **AN:** Sorry, Carol : ( I know some of this might drive you crazy but I just made up a few things. Plus, I didn't want to bother you and it wasn't really important to know the actual names of it. Some people don't know, lol, like me. If you want to rant about it in your review, go ahead! I won't hold it against you!

I hope you all enjoyed this little one shot! Tell me what you thought in the reviews below. Love you all! Bye.


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